


Not Just Another Night

by poppetawoppet



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Sleepy Kisses, songs about poop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4677554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt a fluffy Adam/whoever fic with Adam feeling slightly insecure about his looks and the Whoever telling him how beautiful he really is? If you feel inclined to throw some sexiness in there that's fine. Or just staying fluffy is fine.For <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-C"></span><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://ontd-ai.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://ontd-ai.livejournal.com/"><b>ontd_ai</b></a> 's drive for the shelter in Houston. I may have gone further than I thought I would</p><p>Also includes lyrics to a song about poop</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just Another Night

Kris heard the door slam. It wasn't his door, he kept reminding himself, but it still made him wince sometimes. He had been living at Adam's house—well pretty much living at Adam's house—for six months now and the door had survived many a slamming.

"Adam?"

Kris stood up from the piano when he didn't get a response. It was a big house, so maybe Adam didn't hear him, but then again, Adam usually always came to him when there was a problem. And a slammed door meant there was a problem.

Kris went to the front door first, and picked up the jacket Adam had thrown on the floor. He called out again, and still no answer. It was three in the morning; maybe Adam thought he was still asleep. Kris hadn't slept a night through since his ex-wife had remarried. He wasn't sure if it was regret that kept him awake most nights, only that he tended to spend them writing shitty songs about love and loss.

"Adam?"

Kris peered around the door of Adam's bedroom, and watched as Adam looked into a mirror and frowned. He wore his signature black, a pair of fitted jeans artfully ripped and a slightly shimmering shirt that bared his shoulders. But Adam didn't look happy about it, even though Kris had given it his seal of approval hours ago when Adam said he was going out with an old flame. To reminisce, he had said.

"Adam?"

He walked into the room.

"What are you doing up, Kris?"

There was a weariness in Adam's voice. He didn't let it bleed through in public. He didn't let anyone see him like this in public. Kris sat carefully on the bed as Adam paced, looked in the mirror, frowned, and paced again

"You know me. Writing terrible music."

"Your music isn't terrible." Adam sighed and strode into the bathroom.

Kris stood and followed. He watched as Adam began to wash his face. He knew exactly what Adam was thinking right now. He had lived with Adam twice now, and knew all of his quirks. Well, most of them.

Most of the world saw someone who knew _exactly_ who he wanted to be, what he wanted to do, and how to get it. Adam still saw the awkward youth who had never been given a second look.

"The music I'm writing right now is."

"Everything you write is good. It pains me to say it, you could write a song about shit and it would seem earnest and real and would win a Grammy, Kristopher."

Kris grinned and sang softly, "It may be brown, it may smell bad but it's the only thing that we all have, yeah shit, it's the one thing we share, shit and armpit hair…"

Adam shook his head, and gripped the sink as he doubled over in laughter. "This is why I never regret letting you crash here."

"I am not crashing. I'm… staying until I find a house I like."

"Whatever Kris."

Adam looked back at the mirror and sighed again.

"Will you stop that, Adam?"

Adam tilted his head. "Stop what?"

Kris rolled his eyes. "So what pissed you off tonight?"

"Stop what Kris?"

Kris turned and walked back into the bedroom. "You keep looking in the mirror. Like something's wrong."

He turned and Adam was watching him from the doorway of the bathroom. His face was blank, but his eyes hooded for a moment.

"It was supposed to be just fun." Adam walked over and sat on the bed, leaning his head back against the wall.

"it wasn't fun?"

"At first it was. We danced, had a few drinks. He kissed me."

Kris leaned against the wall. He shouldn't have felt the sudden rush of blood to his head at the last sentence. He carefully flattened his hand, and breathed slowly. He walked over to the bed and sat next to Adam. Kris laid his hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Okay."

Adam looked up, shrugged. "I said I wasn't interested in a one night stand. He said he wasn't interested in anything more." He swallowed, and his mouth tightened. "Said I was always good for a fuck. But he wasn't attracted to me. We were in a relationship for two years Kris. Two years. He cheated on me apparently. With someone prettier, he said."

Kris felt his hand fall, the anger rising. It wasn't until Adam put a hand on his fist that Kris realized his nails were digging into his palm.

"I shouldn't let it get to me. Because he wasn't that great of a boyfriend. I mean, he cheated on me. But I begin to wonder sometimes… why does it never work? Is it really me? Is it something about me?"

Kris clenched his teeth. "How can you even _think_ that?"

Adam blinked. "I don't understand. It's obvious isn't it? It has to be something about me. Maybe I'm just tired of being told I'm not enough for something. For someone."

"But you are."

"Don't try to win this argument, Kris."

Kris reached out and turned Adam's face to his. "You are enough. You're… you are beautiful."

Something flashed in Adam's eyes, but he didn't move his face. "Are you just saying that?"

Kris sighed and let his hand drop. "Adam… I don't care what anyone else says, you are one of the most beautiful people I have ever known. Both here," he touched Adam's cheek," and here," he laid a palm against Adam's chest.

Adam bit his lip, working on something to say. "Kris—"

"Nope. Not allowed to argue. Now are you going to mope some more, or are we going to watch some stupid corny movie and wish our lives could be that perfect?"

"Only if you make popcorn."

Kris grinned. They had spent many nights like this, watching old romantic comedies and discussing how impossible it would be for them to have anything like that. Except this time Adam was tucked into Kris, quieter than normal. Kris would have given anything to make him feel completely better, except Kris still wasn't sure of how to broach the subject.

Telling your best friend you were kind of in love with him was never easy.

So he let Adam lean for once, knowing if nothing else, he would always have nights like these.

*

Kris blinked and looked at his watch. It was eight in the morning. He went to stretch, realizing exactly where he had fallen asleep. Adam had shifted, had spread one leg across Kris's, his face tilted upwards and smiling. Kris sighed and closed his eyes again, surprised at how comfortable he was.

He was half asleep when Adam shifted. He opened one eye.

"Go back to sleep." He leaned down to brush his lips against Adam's hair.

Just as Adam shifted up, his face meeting Kris's.

Kris's eyes flew open as their lips grazed against each other, a fleeting moment in which he was technically _kissing_ Adam. Except Adam was still asleep.

Kris stared at him for a moment, debating on what to do. He should get up before he made a complete fool of himself. But he didn't want to leave. He closed his eyes, and shifted.

"Why are you always leaving?" Adam mumbled. "Stay."

_I can't. I shouldn't. I want to kiss you for real_

"Fine, whiny butt. Just stop taking up all the room."

Adam opened his eyes and moved, and tucked Kris into him. "There? Happy now?"

Kris leaned his head forward, his face in Adam's shoulder. "Yes."

_No. I'm not happy. But I can pretend better than you think I can_

*

Kris blinked again. He looked at his watch and realized he had slept for eight hours. Eight whole hours, minus the ten minutes in the middle.

"Stop moving, I'm still sleeping," Adam mumbled.

"Shut up, whiny butt. I'll move if I want to."

"Make me."

Kris resisted his first instinct. He moved slightly forward before realizing kissing Adam to shut him up was not necessarily a good idea.

"Kris?"

"Yeah?"

"You really meant that stuff you said last night?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. You may be slightly crazy, but anyone who tells you you aren't good enough to be their boyfriend is crazier."

Adam squeezed him. "Thanks for being the best friend I never thought I needed."

"Hey. Someone has to do it."

"You didn't."

Kris sighed and opened his eyes. He still couldn't read the expression on Adam's face. "I did."

"Tell me something else."

"Fine, Adam, what?"

"Why did you stop?"

"Stop what?"

Adam took a breath, as if to steel himself. "You were going to kiss me."

"I—"

"Don't lie. Not now. Please."

Kris sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm scared."

"Oh, I thought. I thought maybe—"

Kris's eyes flew open and he sat up. "Don't you even dare finish that sentence."

He pulled Adam's face to his and kissed him, and leaned so their noses were touching.

"Since you won't listen, I'll just have to show you."

Kris gently pushed Adam backwards.

"I wish I could write a song about your eyes. But it would be forever because they are never the same," he murmured as he closed Adam's eyes with his lips.

"Your mouth," Kris nipped. Adam stiffened slightly, "We'll get back to that."

Kris found himself gaining courage. Adam laid on the bed, eyes still closed. Kris traced kisses from Adam's cheek to his ear, teeth grazing the lobe. "You always listen, no matter what the music. If it was Mozart or Eminem, you never care."

"Kris—" Adam whispered.

"I'm not finished," Kris said, and lifted one of Adam's hands.

"Even though you don't play, you would be fantastic. It's hard not to think of what these hands could do when I watch you cook. Or do anything."

Kris dragged Adam's thumb across his bottom lip, and his breath hitched as Adam clenched his other hand in a fist.

"Do I need to continue, or are you convinced?"

Adam opened his eyes. They were dark. Dangerous. Kris swallowed.

"How long?"

Kris raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"How long have you felt like this?"

Kris shrugged. "Probably always, a little bit. I can't pinpoint an exact date."

Adam nodded once, one hand still fisted, the other in Kris's. "Please let go of my hand."

Kris felt his heart sink. "Why?"

Adam's lip twitched. "Don't worry, it's just so I can manhandle you."

Kris dropped Adam's hand. He grunted as his head hit the wall, Adam kissing him, Adam's hands everywhere, trying to find purchase. Kris froze for a moment before he pulled Adam closer with one hand, his other fisted in Adam's hair. He arched upwards as Adam put a hand between his legs, and bit his lip to stop himself from moaning too loud.

"You're the one who is beautiful," Adam whispered.

"Are we going to have a fight," Kris strained. "Because it would kind of kill the mood."

Adam grinned, and his hand squeezed lightly. Kris sputtered.

"Adam—"

"I'm good. Now shut up and kiss me. I can't wait to hear your song about this."

Kris opened his mouth to sing, and laughed as Adam stopped him.

*

"Don't tell me you can't sleep."

Kris turned to see Adam standing in the doorway. He was only wearing his pajama pants. Kris could see the faint marks on his neck and collarbone.

 _I put those there_ he thought.

"I wrote a song."

Adam walked over to the piano. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. Do you want me to sing it?"

Adam picked up the paper, and his eyes turned from amused to slightly shocked. When he looked up he was in tears. "Kris. I just. I can't—"

"The key is too high for me. Maybe you should sing it."

Adam sat on the bench, and took Kris's hand in his own. "After the ppo song, I thought I was going to get a racy song about our sex life."

"Why write about that when I can live it?"

"Are you propositioning me Allen?"

Kris shut the lid over the keys of the piano, and lifted Adam's hands to his lips. "Are you going to object?"

"I might."

"If I had waited a thousand years, time would be gone with one kiss—"

"If you start singing that to me, I'm going to lose it."

"Tell me one thing."

"What, Kris?"

"Do you think you are beautiful?"

Adam looked at him. "You're still here. You wrote a song. I may begin to believe. But maybe if you showed me again?"

Kris laughed as Adam lowered his eyes. "Only because you asked nicely."

They didn't make it to the bedroom. Kris had a feeling that was going to happen a lot. But watching Adam sleep that night, a smile on his face, Kris felt good.

"Stop worrying about me and come back to bed. I'm cold."

Kris nodded and snuggled back under the covers, and sighed as he drifted off as Adam hummed a wordless song.

 


End file.
